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He lifted his gaze from my mouth, and his brows drew together over eyes that seemed to be confused now. I almost laughed. To think he’d set out to scare me into submission. Didn’t he know I didn’t have to be scared to do whatever he wanted?
Raising my hands to his chest, I gently curled my fingers in the crisp fabric of his shirt. “What?” I repeated.
Tell me what you want. Better yet, throw me into the backseat and show me!
For a split second, I couldn’t breathe. It looked like he might do what I was silently begging for. He jerked his hand out of my hair and dragged me aside so he could open the door. The next second I was tossed like a ragdoll into the backseat, but the door slammed before I could reach for him. I was alone. The sudden loss of his heat and hard muscles—hard everything—took my breath away. It took me several breaths to realize he was storming away from the car.
“Take her to the compound,” he shouted as he passed the driver.
I scrambled to open the door and either try another escape attempt or jump into his arms; I really wasn’t sure. But he turned on his heel and yanked it open, sticking his head in.
“I’m going to be in the car right behind you the whole way. Don’t try jumping out at a stop light because I’ll be right on top of you before you can blink.”
I nearly bellowed that that was what I wanted. For him to be on top of me. He slammed the door again, and the driver got in, giving me a sheepish look in the rearview mirror. He looked resigned to having a miserable time, but no one’s misery could have rivaled mine.
Nothing. I had nothing. No control over my future. My project was left in the dust and destined to be considered a failure by my father. Worst of all, Mikhail had fought his evident desire and won. I felt how much he wanted me. Felt every inch of how much. I shifted in my seat with a long groan.
“Are you too hot?” the driver asked, handing a bottle of water to me over the seat.
Yes. Yes, I was. But not from being back in the Florida weather. I took the bottle with a sour look, and after that, he raised the partition between us.
Taking a long swig, I settled in to stew about my situation. I had no idea where we were going, but it looked like we were heading south. I felt naked without my phone, wishing I could pull up a map and have a satellite tell me where I was. There was nothing but the quickly moving scenery outside to distract me. However, that far south in Florida mainly was water or trees and not much else. Try as I might, I kept returning to the fact that Mikhail might be feeling the same way about me as I felt about him.
Okay, certainly not the same way. I’d been pining over him since I first met him. The world’s hottest dad. That short time on the plane, when he treated me like an equal, had been amazing and had made me see why I still had feelings for him. Even though he might not have that lengthy history of wanting the hell out of me like I did for him, he wanted me. At that moment, yes, he did. I felt the evidence. And that shook me to the core.
I lost out on something I wanted, but maybe I could get something else in whatever time I had with Mikhail. If he didn’t just dump me at this mysterious compound, he mentioned with his bodyguards.
That thought brought back my bitterness about my Novikoff project. Being as close as I was and having it stolen from me was a tough pill to swallow. Not to mention my expensive equipment, all my data, and the proprietary software that Leo created. Mikhail had left it behind like it was garbage and not my life’s work.
I didn’t like simmering with anger, but it was better than simmering with lust. Even if I could finally get what I longed for from Mikahil, I was still shit out of luck as far as proving myself as a leader. And that was his fault. I needed to remember that. I refused to let his gorgeous face, his dreamy smile, and his hard, hard body distract me from that. Wherever we went, I’d just have to find a way to escape before my father arrived.
We kept driving interminably, heading further and further out into the jungles of the Everglades. With every passing mile, the roads grew narrower and more deserted, and my chances of escape grew slimmer. I kept my eyes peeled as we turned onto what looked like no more than a poorly beaten track. Soon, the car was swallowed up by palmetto bushes and towering cypresses and oaks with Spanish moss hanging in long ropes that eerily brushed the side windows as we inched along.
Now I was feeling the first inklings of fear. Not even a seasoned hunter loaded up with weapons would survive very long out here. Maybe this was a shortcut to a nice resort on one of the Keys?
I perked up a little as we bumped along over a series of bridges but deflated again when we pulled up at a gate that might have been designed after a medieval castle’s defense system. The driver got out, walked up to a screen outside the brick and iron monstrosity, and began speaking. I turned around to see the car following us pull up behind us, and Mikhail got out as well.
My heart fluttered at the same time my stomach dropped. Pressing my face to the window like a puppy who missed its master, I tried to catch his eye as he headed back to the other car, but he resolutely ignored me. Hmmph, so it was going to be like that, was it?
The gate finally opened, and the driver pulled past the six-foot thick wall. My stomach rolled over again when I watched it slide shut as soon as Mikhail’s car was through. I’d need climbing tools or a ladder to get over the twelve-foot high wall, wire cutters to get through the razor wire at the top, and I was pretty certain the whole kit and caboodle were electrified up there, so I’d have to find out where the main circuit breaker was before I did anything else.
After going over another bridge, we turned onto a wider road through more dense foliage before it opened up into a vast clearing, paved with white crushed shells and dotted with rose and hibiscus bushes. I gaped at the building in the center of the clearing, like a massive jewel set in platinum.
It was styled like a Spanish hacienda, with three stories sprawled nearly to the edges of our island. The pink and cream stucco against the almost violently blue sky made me feel like I’d been dropped into a fairy tale. Expansive balconies lined the front, all loaded with flowering plants and potted fruit trees, and a sweeping staircase led up to the porch, where double doors stood under towering pillars wrapped with vines.
The vines snapped me out of my awe. The place was a palace, but one on a secluded island in the middle of the Everglades, surrounded by water that was rife with alligators and an overgrown, swampy jungle that was riddled with snakes, among all the other wild beasts I couldn’t name. The last ounce of my hope dissolved away. I was a city girl from Moscow. The heat alone would kill me before the critters ever got a chance. I’d be an easy meal for them.
Before I could sink into despair, I reminded myself of who I was and what I was made of. This was only the front of the place, and I refused to give up before I explored every option. I didn’t give up just because things were rough. I could still get my goals back on track. It was probably for the best that Mikhail was going to give me the cold shoulder, so I wouldn’t be distracted.
To my surprise, he opened the car door for me with a conciliatory smile. I began to soften, forget about the fact I was basically his prisoner, and felt my damn fool face start to smile back. Hell no.
I swept past him toward the steps, keeping my eyes forward when he caught up to me and opened the door. I pretended not to be impressed even as I subtly gaped at the luxurious interior. Besides the marble floors and richly papered walls, there were bamboo ceiling fans slowly twirling above, interspersed with crystal chandeliers. The furniture was a bizarre mix of casual rattan with bright floral cushions and items that might have come from 17th-century Versailles. It somehow worked, though.
He led me to a room on the second floor and pushed open the door for me, motioning for me to go in. I took a step inside and couldn’t help gasping. Did I truly step into a fairy tale? Because of my line of work and family upbringing, I’d never been much of a girly girl—at least outwardly. But all the plush white pillows piled onto the icy blue bedspread, the giant, antique canopy bed with sheer lace hanging across the top and billowing down the sides, the gilt mirror over the delicate vanity table that held a silver vase full of pink roses had me hooked.
Much nicer than my serviceable place back home and miles more luxurious than Kristina’s comfy Brooklyn apartment. It even made my cousin’s fabulous mansions look rather plain.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said, reading my face. I struggled to work up a scowl as I ignored him. With a sigh, he took my chin in his hand and forced me to look at him. I very nearly let go of my resolve to escape. “Try to view this as a vacation,” he said, giving me a smile that had me weak in the knees. “Maybe you’ll have a little fun until the all-clear is called.”
